fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked
disappointed.

"Don't you find what you want?" inquired Joe.

"No," said the visitor. "I say, this is a queer country. I've been
hankerin' arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain't
found any."

"We sometimes have them," said Joe. "Come here at one o'clock, and
you shall be accommodated."

The stranger brightened up.

"That's the talk," said he. "I'll come."

"Have you just come out here?" asked Joe curiously.

"A week ago."

"Are you a Southerner?" asked Joe demurely.

"No, I guess not!" said the Yankee, with emphasis.

"I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one
last first of April, but I ain't no April fool, I tell you. Dad and
me carried on the farm till I, began to hear tell of Californy. I'd
got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out
here."